Perhaps, Over Time
by RoseRelease
Summary: Jason gets more than he bargained for during a spontaneous breakfast with his replacement. (Spoilers for the end of issue #8)


**Fandom:** Red Hood and the Outlaws

**Characters:** Jason Todd, Tim Drake, mentions of Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, and Alfred Pennyworth

**Writer:** RoseRelease

**Genre:** General

**Rating:** PG-13 (language)

**Summary:** Jason gets more than he bargained for during a spontaneous breakfast with his replacement.

**Word count:** 1, 866

**Disclaimer:** I own none (and make no profit off) of the characters and the Universe/stories they're from, they belong solely to their creator/s and the publishing company.

**Notes:** this takes place during the flashback scene at the end of RHATO issue #8. (This was a Tumblr Anon prompt.)

* * *

If you had told Jason Todd a month - hell, even just a day - ago that he would actually be sitting down to a private breakfast with his replacement on the balcony of Lex Towers, he would have laughed in your face and demanded the name and location of your dealer so that he could make sure such strong shit never made it to the market.

But fuck him sideways until his red helmet turns yellow with green polka dots, because there he was, sitting stiffly in his seat as he poured a generous amount of thick syrup over a large stack of waffles. The cloudless sky was a bright blue, the traffic below on the busy streets were long and endless. And sitting across the table from him was none other than Timothy Drake, the third in a growing line of sidekicks to the great and _ever_ infallible Batman.

The lack of conversation didn't bother him. It's not that Jason wanted to get to know the little shit. He didn't. The original plan had been to get in, swap info, and then get out as if he'd never been there in the first place. Living like a ghost and never leaving a trace of his presence anywhere is one of his many talents. (And this whole breakfast thing was threatening to ruin his record.) But even he got curious every now and then, and everything in life came at some price. So what the hell did Tim want in exchange for breakfast with his big bad "older brother"?

"You know you're probably going to land yourself in some deep shit for this, right?" he said around a large mouthful of syrup-soaked waffle. "Swapping info alone gets you a lecture about 'allies' and 'trust,' but full out breakfast? You're practically cavorting with the enemy now." That caught Tim's eye; the teenager paused to glance up at him. Jason's mouth curved in what might have passed for a smile. "If you're not careful kid, they might revoke your credit card privileges."

The corner of Tim's mouth turned upward. "You're not an enemy, Jason. A bit of an outsider these days, but not an enemy." He went back to carefully slicing his food into small portions. "But if it's all the same, what they don't know won't hurt them."

Jason quickly swallowed his food so as not to choke when he broke out into boisterous laughter. "Oh, that's _precious_. They'll love that. Now they'll assume I'm out to corrupt the _good_ replacement out of misplaced bitterness." Jason mock-sighed. "What will 'Daddy' dearest think of his prodigal son now?"

Tim took his time to chew his food before swallowing and washing it back with a sip from his glass of his orange juice. "To be honest, I'm not so sure I care what they think right now," he admitted.

"Let me guess, 'Dad' cut back on your allowance?"

Tim shook his head, the light mockery rolling off him like water. "No, not 'Dad.' And not money. More like Dick and the little hell spawn. It's a little … _tense _between us at the moment."

The rest of the answer shouldn't have been as obvious as it was, but when you have wasted as many days and nights obsessing about the things, people, and _life_ you've lost as Jason had, it was hard to not recognize a similar loss and bitterness in the kid sitting across from him.

"Okay, second guess," Jason said before shoveling another mountain of waffle into his mouth. "You're royally pissed off that only did bat-brat take your 'job,' but that Dickie-bird also took his side. And now you're feeling jaded because Dickie-bird's always been this great guy who supported and defended you and never let you down, but everything changed once the brat showed up." Jason leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I take it your silence means I hit the nail on the head?"

Tim blinked, obviously taken aback. "You know, it's almost funny how easily you were able to surmise all of that considering how little time you willingly spend with the rest of the family these days," he said with a faint chuckle. "But you're right."

"'Course I am," Jason replied with a humorless smirk.

For a moment something like amusement flickered over Tim's face but it was gone in a heartbeat. A carefully crafted poker-face took its place instead.

"I know why Dick did what he did. I can even understand on an objective level why it was the only thing he could have done given the circumstances … but a part of me still can't get over it. I start to think about all that we've been through, the good and the bad, and how he was always there for me." He shook his head. "Now he tells me that I need to be understanding of this - this _child assassin_ who'd sooner try to chop my head off than shake my hand." Tim shook his head. "Dick just keeps letting him get away with everything. I can't even stand being around him for long periods of time nowadays without wanting to just shout at him. Him _or_ the hell spawn."

Jason shrugged. "Join the club, kid."

Tim lowered his head. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt, pulled lightly at a loose thread. "I guess I kind of did, didn't I? Maybe not exactly, but I did come all the way out here for space. Except now I just keep thinking and remembering." He let out a faint sigh.

Jason didn't say anything. There once was a time where he might have laughed in Tim's face, would have delighted at the karma of the situation. Far as he knew, the kid had practically been handed the entire world on a platter (and boy did the kid ever walk and talk like it). To think of him having any serious problems - and any at all like his own - would have been laughable.

But that was a different time, almost an entirely separate _life_ altogether. While he certainly didn't love his replacement, he sure as hell was done blaming him for the actions of another. Seeing another member of the 'family' now deal with similar shit gave him no great joy. If anything, it made him want to roll his eyes at how the good old Batcave seemed to never change.

"You know," Tim continued in the same soft voice, "Dick used to tell me stories whenever we trained together or shared patrol, back before Bruce disappeared and everything turned into a raging mess. About how you two met and used to fight a lot." Head still down, he glanced up at Jason. "He also used to tell me about the times where you _did_ get along. Sometimes he'd tell me about the things he regretted doing, or not doing."

"I'm sure he did," Jason muttered flatly around another forkful of food. Tim might have bought Dick's sad stories, but he didn't. Dick certainly never acted like he regretted much about their past. Not when they crossed paths.

Tim quietly asked, "Was - Was he ever like a big brother to you?"

"No."

"Oh." Tim fell quiet. He began to gnaw the corner of his lip, looking completely lost in thought as he stared at his mostly untouched plate. Jason could practically hear the gears in the kids head cranking away at top speed from his end of the table. No doubt the kid was imagining all the things Jason had missed out on during his tenure, was maybe even worrying about if _this_ was the fate of his relationship with Dick. It annoyed him, but nowhere near as much as the thought that the kid who had everything also had the energy to compare lives and feel bad for him, like his feelings or sympathy meant anything at all. Like it acted like any kind of comfort.

He was so tired of putting up with the pity and misunderstandings of others.

Finished with his food, Jason let his utensils drop onto his empty plate with a soft clang. The sound yanked Tim out of his thoughts; he watched Jason chug back the entirety of his drink in a single swig.

Jason wiped his mouth off the back of his gloved hand as he pushed back his chair and stood up. "Whelp, thanks for the grub, kid. Stay outta tr -"

"Wait."

Instinct shouted at him to ignore the younger vigilante's plea; he'd already gotten what he wanted and then some, he was under no obligation to stick around and continue listening to the kid whine and moan about the usual shortcomings of their 'family.' But Jason paused nonetheless, all the while mentally kicking himself for it.

"Yup?"

"I - well … I'll see you around, won't I?"

Ah, so that was he wanted: Substitution. Well, wasn't that just fucking peachy? Jason didn't know which was worse, the fact that he wasn't in the least bit surprised, or that he was so used to the inane comparisons that he was almost too tired to care anymore.

"I'm not Dick," he said, eyes narrowing. "Just because we swapped info and you offered up some food doesn't mean we're suddenly best friends."

"I know. I was just hoping …" Tim slumped in his chair, for a moment looking more like a regular teenager than the privileged prodigy that he normally came across as. "I don't know what I was hoping for. Something, I guess."

"_I_ know what you were hoping for. Trust me when I say that it's not a good idea; I'm not friend material." Grabbing his helmet off the table, Jason shot Tim a mischievous grin before pulling the helmet over his head. "No hard feelings. It's not you, it's me."

"It probably is for the best," Tim reluctantly agreed. "Still, you're free to drop by anytime you need. Just because we can't be 'best friends' doesn't mean we have to stop being allies. Like you said, no hard feelings."

Jason stepped up onto the ledge of the balcony as he thought it over. He wasn't too keen about the idea - he'd left Gotham to _escape_ the city and his history there. Keeping some form of contact with another 'family' member, even if it was irregular at best, was counter-productive.

But was there a point in burning _all_ of his bridges? He'd meant what he said earlier; the kid did do good work …

"Perhaps," Jason finally answered. It wasn't a definitive response, but it seemed to satisfy the younger vigilante; he smiled softly.

"Then I'll say it again: See you around?"

The kid was persistent, he'd give him that. "I wouldn't count on it." Pause. Then, "Maybe. We'll see."

He didn't wait around to catch Tim's response, or drag out the dying conversation any further. He had places to go, criminals to catch, things and people to escape from. With a single push of his foot, he went over the side of the balcony, and disappeared.


End file.
